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The Cuties

Hark!


It is I. Look at what I've become.  Someone who posts once every ten days! Someone who still hasn't written a recap of a race that happened more than a week ago!

Trying to fix that.  I know you didn't notice, since y'all were busy with passover and easter.

The truth is, I've been real busy working on my stash of easter candy, and I simply cannot type while I'm busy licking my candy fingers.

And the truth is, Mad Men season five just appeared on Netflix, and I have some major Ken Cosgrove to catch up on (go Ken Cosgrove!).

The true truth is, when I get home after 8:00 p.m. I need to savor that time with my cutie.  And since I don't have any babies to qualify as a cutie, this guy is the cutie that I'm talkin about.



Hairdo inspired by the famous trendsetting HRG baby.  It's all the rage!

The true-true truth is, I got one of my molars pulled out last week because it was cracked and had been causing pain and swelling for a couple months.  Now I have a big gap back there, and a bottle full of Vicodin.  Yay! The painkillers have been fun but also made me feel sick.  So much drama from one little tooth.

And while I'm showing pictures of the adorable loves in my life, peep on one of the awesome legal secretaries I work with.  Hahaha.  I cannot not laugh at this picture.  Hahaha.  While my tooth pain did not lead to strapping a microwavable teddy bear to my face, this was her solution for dealing with some pain she was having.


Brilliant and adorable

Okay lets keep going. Another picture of a cutie!  I got this munchkin the best christmas gift--a mustache pacifier.  My lil niece Gemma looks good in everything.  I have dreams about her all the time lately, where we are galloping through grass fields hand-in-hand, and she whispers in my ear, "I'm going to ask my mom if we can hang out this weekend."  We have officially become best friends lately.  We dance forever, we play "walk this way" (she drags me around while we hold hands), we play "sleep" (peek-a-boo where she lies down and I cover her with a blanket), and she shouts "cake-cake!" with excitement to see me.  That's her version of "KK," my childhood nickname that I forced her to adopt.



Okay now last one.  East bay liberals meet East bay star trek nerds.  Photo napped while stuck in traffic on Easter. I wikipedia'd the real "free Leonard," Leonard Peltier, and from my brief review it definitely was a  "DON'T free leonard" situation.  He sounds pretty unforgivably guilty to me


Running Cliffnotes:

Sunday: Oakland half-marathon, recap coming up y'all:
Monday: Tooth pulled
Tuesday: Toof hurts
Wednesday: Toof hoits
Thursday: 10 miles a.m., 6.5 miles p.m.
Friday: 11
Saturday: 22.2
Sunday: 13.4

Total: 63-ish

Waddya know, my first over-50 mile week in about a month.

I blissed out on Saturday, indulged in my neverending desire to run and run and run until my body fixes itself (flawed logic of course).  Sometimes I actually believe I can outrun the buttcrease/leg-lock.  Like, "OH! I know what I haven't tried! Running HARDER."

After running a half-marathon badly (now you excited for the recap!?) and then taking three days off due to my tooth extraction, I dove back into running on thursday only to be greeted with a heavy body and stiff legs.  My leg-lock was piping up even when running pretty slow, which hasn't happened before.  I wondered if it was the painkillers making my legs heavy? And the half-marathon recovery making my leg-lock appear?  Either way, it was a bummer running week.

By Saturday, I had to cancel plans to run a fast 20-miler with a friend who was giving it one last oomph before Boston, because prior days had warned that I would not be able to run fast.  And I didn't want to ruin her scheduled paces.

But it was embedded in my mind that I was going to run 20 on Saturday, so I went out and did it my way.  And my body felt much better.  Took my sweet time wandering around Oakland with some podcasts ringing in my ears and some gummy bears in my pockets.  No plans later in the day except to get some work done, and the Gentleman was at work, so I took advantage of the fact that I had nowhere to be but running.  Not training for anything....doesn't matter how far or how fast....feels so nice.  Just like ye olden days before ye ole blog when I used to run and run and run and never race.  A long run just soaks into your cells and makes you feel high....or is that the Vicodin still talking? Does anyone want to take this stuff off my hands?

Sincerely,
Vicodin.